


Love lives forever

by Meadowlarkwrites



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 5+1 Things, Character Study, Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Of sorts?, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 18:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18530467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadowlarkwrites/pseuds/Meadowlarkwrites
Summary: Denmark and Norway have changed over the centuries. Some things will always stay the same.





	Love lives forever

The longer one lives, the longer it takes to find anything new. Every moment is a reminder, a memory, too similar.

  
The sun shines on Norway’s hair the same way it did seventy years ago, his eyes desperate and hungry and glad for the end of a struggle. The sun shines the same way it did two hundred years ago, reforming their governments for the umpteenth time, his eyes tired but happy to wake up in a shared bed. It shines the same as four hundred years ago, the wind in their sails and salt water stinging his eyes, ringing them red with a longing for new worlds. The same way six hundred, nine hundred, a thousand years ago, both of them young and innocent and happy just to be with each other, none the wiser of what the future had in store, focused entirely on the present.

  
Then Norway shifts, and Mathias knows this smile is new. Even over centuries of memories, expressions, kisses, Norway finds ways to surprise him. Lukas is new, always unfolding, always changing, and Mathias worships him like the erratic seas.  
Lukas is the ebb and flow of the waves. Norway is a steady rock and a foundation. Lukas is sun kissed hair, wrinkles and scars, face impassive but eyes turbulent. Norway is there, a millennium ago, a century ago, now.  
Mathias smiles back.

* * *

 

Love, when one lives forever, isn’t sudden and bright anymore. It burns, yes, but instead of exploding it only smoulders.  
In youth there was shouting, confusion, and miscommunication. Kisses were stolen behind the backs of elders. Punishments were written and lovers separated. Love was letters telling of intense desire, meetings demonstrating words. It was crashing teeth and bruised lips and fear and lust. In youth their relationship was an explosion, bright and angry and easily put on, fuelled by desperation and loneliness.

  
Youth is a lifetime, _lifetimes_ ago. Now, love is simpler. It’s coffee in the mornings, two cups, always the same. One with sugar, one with cream, both the same brew. It’s quiet dinners, not because they’ve run out of things to say, but because they no longer need to talk to understand how the other is feeling. Love is their hands always finding each other, their hearts always returning, their lips always connecting again. Love is what they share and what is still separate. Now, their love burns slow, but constant, ever-faithful and strong.

  
Mathias loves him.

* * *

 

Language changes, and eventually it’s best to give up on understanding it. Mathias is always playing catch up, but Norway lets it go, letting the words slip through his fingers just like the sands of time.

  
Mathias’s tongue twists when asked about Norway. There are so many ways to describe their relationship, and none ever feel right. His friend, his lover, his brother, his companion, his ally. His servant, his king, his husband, his partner. He struggles to understand, to make others understand, because it’s important that they know how important Norway is, to him. His fingers grip tight in his hair, and thank gods for libraries and the internet because now he can look these up, and Norway is there with a hand on his shoulder and a soothing voice in his ear. The others don’t understand, but sometimes they get close, but other times they jump to conclusions, but other times they fix Mathias with pitying eyes.

  
Lukas doesn’t care what they think. Mathias is _his,_ and that’s all that matters.

* * *

 

The first fight is always the worst, but infinite time means infinite conflict. Always there is something worse to look back on.  
Mathias has seen Norway at his worst. He has seen him bloody, bruised, and broken in body, mind, and heart. He has seen Lukas reaching out frantically, begging, _“why would you leave me, what did I do? Please come back”_. Mathias has been at the other end of his sword, Norway’s lips set into a line and his eyes half-lidded to hide his true feelings. He has seen Norway’s resolve harden, his mouth turned to a smirk, as he drove the point forward. There was no remorse, no apology. Only a _“goodbye“_.

  
Lukas has reached for Denmark and gotten no response. He has watched his back fade from view as blood spilled past his lips and tears spilled past his eyes. Lukas has screamed, has sacrificed, has been disappointed. Denmark has left him for dead under a misguided need to protect him. Lukas has seen Mathias’s eyes, blank and unfocused, accepting the anger slung unrightfully at him. He has seen him fall into the hole of self-hate, hurting himself and throwing himself away because he thinks he _deserves_ it. Lukas has been the cause of Mathias’s pain.

  
War and war and war and peace. They have killed each other time and time again, have breathed breath into each other’s lungs again. Norway has so much of Mathias and Denmark has so much of Lukas that they are nearly one. Compared to a frenzied beating, multiple killing blows, an argument over the coffee pot hardly seems of consequence.

* * *

 

Age is more than a number, because numbers are easy to forget, and someday they both stop counting. How many years they’ve walked this earth, how many deaths they’ve seen, how many kisses they’ve shared. These are all forgotten and insignificant.

  
Mathias looks twenty two, and forty, and eighteen, and twenty two again. His figure fills out and loses weight. He forgets more and then his mind is the sharpest Lukas has ever seen.

  
Lukas is ephemeral, ethereal, never old or young or anything in between. He is constant and present. His eyes are haunted, speaking of a wisdom beyond his perceived years, but the way he moves is awkward like a child unused to their growing body. He looks the same year in and year out.

  
They stay in one place too long and the people forget them.

* * *

 

In immortality, love is the constant. Repetitive and new, explosive and smouldering, confusing and explainable, conflict and peace, undefinable and absolute. Love is all of these, and Denmark and Norway, Mathias and Lukas, are love. They are in love, for love, by love, love. Love lives forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review! Sorry for lack of editing =^=; I’m very tired. Let me know if the formatting is off!


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